I already have a lot of stories that are essentially interconnected for me, so I decided to create a separate folder for all of them connected with this one: https://www.deviantart.com/green-tg/gallery/94756072/why-am-i-so-afraid-to-say-it-
Two captions because at first, I thought it would just be a short story, but then it got longer, and I couldn’t find any images of this girl... so I had to make them myself. But I didn’t want to lose the original, so that’s why it’s like this.
Part 5-12 + add. materials: https://www.patreon.com/collection/815616?view=expanded
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Part 1
'Jeez... never thought I'd be doing something like this... let alone this often,' Jake muttered, barely containing his frustration as he twisted uncomfortably, holding a razor and trying to carefully shave the last few hairs from the area between his legs. His muscles ached, and his back began to throb from being bent over for so long. He let out a sharp breath, put his leg back down on the floor, and stared at his reflection in the mirror.
— Damn it... — Jake sighed, tilting his head back and staring up at the ceiling. He still couldn’t get used to these new sensations. His body felt foreign, even though it had been like this for a while now. Every morning, he woke up hoping it had just been another nightmare, but everything stayed the same.
'Damn wish,' he thought, remembering that night when he had been alone and, for some reason, decided to say out loud what he had only occasionally thought about.
— Hey, gorgeous, haha, how’s it going? — came Stephanie’s voice unexpectedly. She had become a frequent visitor to his apartment again, though now in a very different role.
…
That evening, he hadn’t known why he did it—maybe to test his courage, to see if he could admit it not just to himself, but say it out loud. He had been scared of it, always without fully understanding why. He smirked inwardly and slowly opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
'This is harder than I thought...' he mused with a small smile, though it only strengthened his resolve. 'Come on, I’m alone here. What’s the big deal? Why is it so scary to say?' Growing more frustrated, he started to speak.
— I’d like to be... a woman... for a week... or maybe two — he whispered quietly. Jake froze, as if expecting something to change right then and there, as if the universe itself was about to respond to his bold wish. But everything remained still. Only the hum of his computer and the distant noise of the street outside filled the silence.
A smile spread across his face.
— No, I should’ve said it louder. Why am I so afraid to say it... though yeah, talking to myself is kind of dumb — he laughed, loudly and boisterously, and said again — Well then... I’d like to be a woman for a week! Maybe even two! — Jake shouted the words, almost defiantly, as if trying to banish the fear that still lurked somewhere deep inside. His laughter echoed in the empty room, and he almost heard a voice answering him, fully aware that it was just his own imagination.
— Fine, it’s a deal — he replied to himself, oddly not feeling any fear, understanding perfectly well that it was all just a game of his mind, and he nervously chuckled.
That evening, he went about his usual activities, trying not to dwell on what had happened. But even during his routine tasks, thoughts of that strange wish wouldn’t leave him, and he felt the need to repeat it again and again, to... stop being afraid?
Each time he voiced the wish—whether as a joke or with a nervous laugh—something inside him shifted. The thought of being a woman didn’t scare him as much anymore. It no longer seemed so frightening, and he was even glad about that. 'Damn, why was I always afraid to admit that it’s just fear?' Jake pondered, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Everything now felt different. A change had taken place in his mind. What had started as an awkward desire, hidden behind walls of fear and self-judgment, now seemed less threatening. Each time he voiced his wish, that fear weakened, dissolving more and more.
It no longer felt like something forbidden, like some kind of taboo. 'What’s so wrong with just admitting what I want?' he asked himself, feeling a sense of lightness from the realization. And every time he said it out loud, he had the sense that "tomorrow" something would happen, even though he knew it was all nonsense.
…